The Four Founders
by mpb1204
Summary: Story about the four Hogwarts founders and their lives before they began Hogwarts. Romance,adventure and general. GGRR, HHSS. Please review!
1. Chapter 1

**I do not own any of these characters.**

**Please review! My birthday is on sunday!**

"Rowena, dear, wake up," her maid shook her gently; "it's time to go to Queen Maeve." Rowena stirred and stretched her arms far above her head and yawned.

"Please leave," Rowena said tiredly to her maid. Without a word, the maid got up and scurried out of the room. Rowena opened her large, brown eyes and let them adjust to the bright morning light that she dreaded, yet coveted. She slowly pulled her blanket off of her comfortably warm body and she was surrounded by the cool, autumn air. A slender foot reached the chilled, stone floor, closelyfollowed by the second foot. She pulled her nightgown up over her head and threw it down on the floor. Picking up her new wand from her bedside table, she magically filled a small bowl with warm water and dipped her fingers in. She washed her face, hands and neck and then threw the bowl off to the side.

She walked towards her chest and opened one of the heavy, wooden doors. Her closet was filled with the finery that her wealthy father, the duke, was able to get her. She pulled out her favorite set of robes. They were made of long, purple velvet and trimmed with gold ribbon. She pulled them on and set a matching, pointed hat upon her head. Admiring herself in the mirror, she took off the hat and brushed out her long, wavy, light brown hair. Rowena was no beauty; she had no outstanding features or extraordinary talents. She was just plain, everyday Rowena Ravenclaw.

Yesterday, Rowena drove through the countryside with her father. Around noon, they arrived at a small cottage with a thatched roof, buried deep into the woods. Her father knocked loudly upon the door, saying, "Olyfander! It's Ravenclaw!"

The door slowly opened to reveal a stout man with a tuft gray hair on each side of his head and small spectacles that rested on his long nose. "Ruford!" the man exclaimed hoarsely as he squeezed her father in a tight hug.

"Ahh…Ladde, it has been to long," Ruford said as they pulled away.

"Come in, come in," he said as he beckoned them inside of his cottage. "Make yourselves at home," he said proudly.

The inside was bigger than it looked on the outside. It was decorated plainly; there was a wooden table with four chairs in the kitchen, a few old chairs by the fireplace and a small bed in a far corner.

"You must be Rowena!" Olyfander said as he turned to face the young witch. "I haven't seen you since you were a little girl." She politely curtsied to the man and he laughed loudly.

"Ruford, my old friend, you are going to have quite a handful with this one," he said. Olyfander grabbed two old mugs from a dusty shelf and filled them to the brim with ale. He handed one mug to Ruford and they raised their glasses in a toast. "To money!" Olyfander said, chuckling, as the two mugs banged together and both men finished their ale in one swig.

"Ahh…business, business," Olyfander said, as serious as he could be. "What can I do for you, my friend?"

Ruford signaled for Rowena and she picked up her skirts and walked towards the two men. "Rowena is going to Queen Maeve tomorrow," Ruford said.

"Ah-ha," Olyfander cackled, "I have just the one for you, mi'lady!" Rowena looked up at him inquiringly. "For the girl, I am thinking twisted dragon heartstring and sage. 12 1/3 inches…erm…hickory. Yes!" he thought aloud.

"Excuse me sir," Rowena said, "what is this for?"

Olyfander bent down and said to her, "wands, missy, wands." Rowena nodded and watched as the old man went through cupboards pulling out materials. "Sit down girl, I'll show ya how they're made." He said.

Rowena slumped down into a chair and Olyfander set a thin, dirty parcel on the table. He rolled it out to reveal many things that Rowena had never even seen before.

"Wand making supplies," he grunted. "This mi'lady, is dragon heartstring," he held up several pieces of purple, metallic string. "That'll be for the base of your wand. This one is sage," he held out long, thin dried plants. He carefully put the dragon heartstring and sage into a long, hickory stick that was cut at exactly 12 1/3 inches. He poured at silvery liquid into the wand and closed the tip of the wand with an small, opal stopper. He took a blade out of a small leather pouch and carved an intricate, woodland design into the hickory.

Olyfander held the newly made wand up into the light emitting from the small, dirty window. "Here you go. I made a special one for you, try it out," he said as he handed it to her. She examined it closely. Her favorite part was the opal stopper; when she ran her fingers across it, it would reveal her name; _Rowena Ravenclaw_. She twirled it around and she giggled as it emitted different colored sparks.

"Thank you, Mr. Olyfander," she said.

"No problem, dearie," he replied.

"How much, Ladde?" Ruford asked.

"Don't worry about it, my old friend, don't worry about it," Olyfander replied as he rested his calloused hand on his beer belly and watched with wide eyes as Rowena enchanted a book and it began to sing and dance. "You know, Ruford," Olyfander said, "this girl of yours is real clever."

"Yes. She always has been, just like her mother," Ruford sighed.

"Yep…but don't let it get to her head, my old friend," Olyfander warned.

0000000

"Godammit woman," a large, burly manyelled drunkenly as he stumbled towards his wife, "I'm gonna kill you, Mildred! I swear."

An emaciated pregnant woman cowered terrified in a corner. "No, please don't hurt me, Evrawg, my love, please," she cried and pleaded helplessly. On all fours, she crawled over to seek refuge beneath a splintered straight back chair missing one of its legs. She pulled her swollen body into a fetal position as her husband charged madly towards her.

In her head, she counted the upcoming seconds until she would feel a severe blow to her head and would wake up hours later, like many times before. Instead, she slowly pulled her head up as she heard retching noises. Now was her chance. She stumbled as she heaved herself up from the dirty cottage floor, ever so quietly. Reaching over beside her, she grabbed a heavy brass cauldron and swung it over Evrawg's head. Evrawg passed out and fell flat on his face, straight into his vomit.

Breathing a heavy sigh of relief, Mildred staggered as she collected her balance. In a corner to her right, several young children broke apart from their close, scared huddled and scurried off. She felt a pair of thin arms, way too thin arms she thought to herself, wrap around her waist. Her eldest son, who was still quite young, looked up into her eyes. "Mama," he said softly, with a nervous shake in his voice, "are you all right?"

"Shh…don't be scared. Tomorrow you will go to Queen Maeve's, you will be safe there, my love," she clucked as she ran her thin, bony fingers through his dirty, matted hair.

"I don't want to leave mama," he said to her.

"How come?" she inquired.

"If I leave, who will protect you?" he asked her. Hot tears began to swell in her large, gray eyes as she continued to hold her son close.

"Don't worry, Godric, love…I will be all right," she moved her head away so he could not see her tears. Pulling herself together, she said tersely, "Now go find your brothers and sisters and put them into bed.

The young boy let go of his suffering mother and turned around to obey her request. "Godric…wait," she choked out.

"Yes mama?"

She extended a leather pouch towards him and said, "Take this and keep it safe. Don't open it until you get to Connaught Castle tomorrow," she looked fiercely into his eyes, "do you promise me, Godric?"

"I promise mama," he bowed his head in respect and Mildred squeezed out a small smile, which Godric returned contagiously. Godric's heart sank as he watched his mother. She was down on the floor, rag in hand, cleaning up the retch off the floor and off of her husband. The once beautiful witch had become thin and bony from lack of food and abuse. Her dull, brown hair hung limp in strings, but was usually tied up with an old, dirtied rag. Her clothes were in tatters and the clung loosely to her protruding ribs and the bloated stomach she had recently formed from her current pregnancy, her thirteenth pregnancy.

What disturbed Godric the most was her eyes. They were large, grey and curious. His mother had never been bright or rich or even happy since she had been married. Her eyes were filled with a sorrow, trying to be brave and trying to be kind. He couldn't leave her. She was too weak and sick; shewas going todie.

Godric woke early as the sun began to rise over the horizon. He pulled himself from his warm bed, only wanting to linger a bit more. Throwing his ragged clothes on him, he pulled back the shaggy quilt hanging from the doorway. His mother was sitting limply next to the dim firelight, sewing. Without looking up from her work, she said, "go wash up, Godric."

He followed her orders and washed his thin body in the icy cold water of the clear lake. Hesitant, Godric plunged his head underneath and scrubbed the dirt and grease from his hair. Wrapping himself in a thin sheet, he ran back inside to avoid the bitter morning air.

Wordlessly, his mother handed him new clothes she had sewn for him. They were of the best material that they could afford and stained with spots of blood from pricked fingers. He thanked his mother as he pulled up his new, brown breeches and matching tunic. Godric tied up his old leather boots onto his calloused feet and gathered his few belongings into a burlap sack and walked out the door.

"I love you," Mildred called behind him as he made his way on foot down the rocky, dirt road. Taking one last glance at his mother, he ran back as fast as his legs were able to carry him and hugged her tightly. She kissed his forehead and whispered, "be safe, Godric," into his ear before he finally left.

Do you get it? OlyfanderOllivander?Also, just to clarify,according to JKR, Queen Maevetaught young witches and wizards before Hogwarts was created. Queen Maevewas a legendaryCeltic queen who excelled in seduction and was believedto have superhuman powers. **Please review**! Tell me whatyou didlike and didn't like.


	2. The House of Hufflepuff

**Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed. **

"I don't want to go, mother!" A chubby, short little girl with tight blond curls said.

"Helga, this is not a matter of discussion. You are going regardless," a beautiful blond witch said in a smooth tone. She was embroidering a tapestry while her fat, balding husband watched pleasantly as the comely maid cleaned the hearth.

"Ugh," Helga groaned.

"Helga, stand up straight," her mother said curtly. "We can't have you slouching at the palace now, can we?"

"I suppose not," Helga said with an air of defeat.

"You see Helga; you must be on your best behavior. If the queen fancies you, then your father and I will move up in society. I mean we can't be living in this tiny castle for the rest of our lives." The witch surveyed the grand room with distaste and her husband nodded in agreement.

"Your father can't be a mere baron for the rest of his life," the witch snorted. Helga said nothing. She couldn't see what was so bad about being a baron- and they did live comfortably.

Helga tried her best to sit up straight. She held her short, pudgy fingers together on her lap and she kept her head down, as she was constantly reminded of how ugly she was and what a disappointment she was.

"Aldora," the fat man said.

"Yes, dear," the witch answered.

"Promise me you will come with me to the fields tomorrow. I feel that the serfs have been getting out of line," he said.

"Yes, Gale, I promise," Aldora said. Her husband was delighted.The setting sun reflected off her indigo eyes as she looked atGale enchantingly.

"Where is Linford?" Gale asked. "I want him to sit upon my knee." Linford was Helga's much covetedfive year oldbrother. He was called Linford the Handsome because of his soft golden curls, fair skin with rosy cheeks and big, turquoise eyes.

"He's sleeping, dear," Aldora said smoothly.

Gale considered this, and deciding he needed entertainment, he said, "Sing for me, Aldora."

Aldora stood up; her long, shimmering blond hair swayed softly behind her. A high, melodious voice flowed from her as she sang of a famous prophecy once made.

The song her mother sang was one of Helga's favorites. She loved hearing the legendary story once more of the four great witches and wizards who would battle gloriously and love deeply. The stag was courageous and brave, the otter kind, the snake ambitious and the raven clever. She sighed and wished she could be one of them. Yet, she felt, fate had something else in store for her.

_A/N: I hope you enjoyed it. Please review. _


	3. Queen Maeve

**Hi! Sorry it took me awhile to update. Some loser hacked into my computer and I had to deal with it. Everything's taken care of now. Thank you to everyone who reviewed. **

**-Melissa**

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Although she was lower royalty, the horns still played for her. Nervous, she waved her father goodbye and clutched on tightly to her skirts. _"Be brave,"_ she whispered to herself. She took a deep breath and swiftly, yet gracefully walked through the Great Hall. She felt as if every eye in the world was upon her. She stopped at the great arch as she was announced. "Rowena of Glen," a lowly servant called loudly. Rowena kept her coal black eyes downcast to the stone floor. She knelt low before the queen, too nervous to steal a glance at this rumored beauty.

"Welcome Rowena of Glen," a sensually throaty voice said to her. Rowena picked up her head and came eye to eye with the legendary Queen Maeve. She couldn't help herself as she gasped at the eloquent and beautiful queen. She was covered in rich velvet robes trimmed with snow white fur. A gold, bejeweled crown sat up her long, curly blond hair. She had large, deep green eyes and creamy skin. The queen smiled serenely with her blood red lips. "I can tell, my dear, that one day you will be a great witch," the queen said. She gestured towards the long trestle table that was filled with children her own age. Rowena curtsied at the queen before taking her seat.

Rowena was about to cry. She felt as if everybody there was judging her. She held eye contact with a tall, thin, handsome boy who was eating barbarically. "Oh look…it's the great witch…the princess," he said rudely. Everyone laughed. She kept her head down.

A chubby blond girl who was chatting animatedly with a group of girls, looked at her sympathetically and said, "there's a seat over here."

"No thank you," Rowena said rudely. She turned her head and sat at the far end of the table, away from everyone. She saw the blond girl exchange looks with her friends and laugh. Rowena took it in stride.

She ate her dinner like a practiced dance. Tears fell over her meat, but sheplaced it into her mouth gracefully, as she had been taught to do. The sun had set and Rowena was sipping her wine as the great double doors flung open with a gust of wind. Queen Maeve picked up her head and smirked at a dark figure in the doorway.

He was unpleasant child; unlike any of them had seen before. He had dark, yellow skin and wisps of black hair emerged from an emerald green turban. A large snake hung around his neck, twisting itself in the folds of the boy's clothing. His lips were like ripe raspberries and his eyes were greener than the Scottish hills Rowena knew so well. He was dressed grandly, in colorful, patterned silks and bejeweled gold jewelry. A thick stomach resulted from well eating and he smiled confidently, showing a glittering row of gold teeth.

"…Ahhh….Salazar Slytherin," Queen Maeve said with a smirk, dragging the s's. "You have finally decided to arrive."

He bowed low to the floor in front of her. "Your highness," he began.

"Go on Slytherin," she said.

"My father has gifts for you from India," he said.

"Another attempt of your fathers' to buy himself a Dukedom," she said cruelly. Everyone laughed at the strange boy. "Well then…show them."

He snapped his fingers loudly and a pile of giftscovered in rich tapestries appeared on the floor beside him. The queen pretended to be unfazed by this young boy's aptitude for magic. He removed one of the grand, thick tapestries to reveal a gold wrought cage. The cage opened and a strange tortoise like animal appeared.

Students gasped at this strangely beautiful creature. "This is a Fire Crab, madame," he said proudly, still kneeling.

"Yes. I-know-very-well-what-that-is-thank-you!" she snapped at him. "Go sit down, Slytherin," she hissed. He stood up and his eyes scanned the table for a place to sit. No students welcomed or beckoned this mysterious loner.

Slytherin looked at Rowena. Her dark eyes fell to her plate. He ignored this unwelcoming gesture and made his way toward her. He walked in a swift, awkward glide.

Rowena whimpered when he sat down. She was terrified of snakes. "I am Salazar Slytherin," he said in his strange voice; the local accent mixed with something thick and foreign.

"Rowena Ravenclaw," she said quietly.

"Pleasure," he said, smirking. She nodded briefly.

In effort to drag on conversation, he said, "I am from India."

"India?" Rowena asked, half laughing. "Where is India?"

"South of here, I don't know exactly," he told her, smiling.

"Do you miss it there? What was it like?" she was strangely interested in this foreign land of "India".

"I miss it very much. It was a warm, wet climate. There were thick forests with rare, magical animals. There were high mountains with beautiful Hindu temples and shrines carved into them like grottos. It is a land of beautiful savages," he finished poetically and smiled.

"Beautiful savages?" she giggled.

"Yes," he said, smiling. "My father and I lived in a shack high in a tree."

"A shack? What about your mother?" she asked.

His face fell. "She's dead," he said quietly.

"Mine too," she said. He gave her a sad look of understanding. "How did yours' die?"

"Snake bite," he said nonchalantly.

She looked at him in shock. "Mine too," she said quietly. There eyes locked in a long gaze and he moved his hand over hers and grasped it in a comforting way.

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_A/N: Please review!_


	4. Unlikely Bonds

**I'm back after years of not updating! Enjoy!**

Helga sunk deep into the goose-down mattress of her canopied bed, and feigned sleep. Her eyelids remained open just so she could see out of small slits obscured by her lashes. She studied her new roommate, the daughter of the Duke of Glen. Young Rowena was beautiful and elegant, and Helga's heart beat with a hopeless envy. Despite the frequent cutting remarks of her parents, she knew that their age was an awkward one, and even the ugliest duckling could always become a beautiful swan. At least that's what she hoped for herself. But Rowena seemed to be breezing through the awkward stages; her skin was clear and features beautiful, she was slender with no hint of baby fat. And most of all, she carried herself with an air of sophistication that Helga could only dream of. Helga thought Rowena must have surely been molded from God's hand to sit on the most powerful thrones in Christendom. She was the very definition of "noble."

Hot tears formed in Helga's eyes and she wiped them away on the pillow. She thought of her clumsy waddle compared to Rowena's graceful gait. She thought of supper past, and how Rowena ate her meal with the air of a dance, while Helga plowed through the meat and greens with ungainly awkwardness. She thought of Rowena's clear voice, and her meek squeak. No matter how hard she tried, she could never be so elegant.

"Why are you crying?" a soft voice startled Helga and she raised her head from her pillow, and gazed up at Rowena's concerned expression. "Are you homesick?

Helga shook her head.

"Sometimes if you talk about whatever is making you sad, it will make you feel worlds better. You can talk to me. I swear, I'm not as cold as I may seem," she prodded, finishing with a little laugh. She sat herself down beside Helga, smoothing her skirt over her knees as she waited patiently for the girl to calm down.

Helga took a few deep breaths, swallowing her sobs, and looked up at Rowena. "I am too ashamed to speak. I fear you will think ill of me."

"I swear I shan't," Rowena promised.

"Cross your heart?"

"Hope to die."

Helga took a deep breath and said, "Well—I feel so silly admitting this—but I'm terribly envious of you. You're so graceful, and elegant, and beautiful and I could never be like you—no matter how hard I try."

Rowena gasped. "Really?! And here I was, seething with envy for you! I was watching you at dinner—how easily you make friends, and how warm you are, and how comfortable you make people feel. I'm an absolute ice-queen, and as a consequence I have never had a real friend before. You are the most popular girl in the castle!"

Helga's lips broadened into a grin and she laughed. "How silly we are! Both secretly envious of each other!"

"I know!" Rowena joined in the laughter, "And for the record—you are more graceful than any of the common girls here—it's just a simple part of being well born. This age is an awkward stage, and I can see the makings of a beautiful woman in your face. Your hair is beautiful—what I would give for golden locks like yours!—and your eyes are wide and blue, and your nose small and elegant. Those are all features that any woman would kill for! Don't think so poorly of yourself, Helga."

Helga grinned. "And you're not the ice queen you think you are, either. You're terribly sweet, though a bit shy, I imagine. Would you like me to help you be outgoing like I am?"

Rowena's face brightened. "That would be wonderful! And I can help you improve your grace and manners, if you would like?"

Helga nodded fervently in agreement.

"I'm so glad we got that out of the way!" Rowena sighed. "From now on, we shall be the best of friends, I believe!"

"Certainly!" Helga leaned over and embraced her new friend, and the two fell into easy, endless conversation.

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"Show me the future, Athelred," Queen Maeve murmured to the face in the looking glass.

The face—void of detail or expression—bowed his head and disintegrated out of view. The reflective glass was replaced with vivid scene; a fortuitous castle Maeve had never encountered prior loomed in the background, and a terribly handsome knight stood guard in glittering, gold chainmail. His red-gold hair fluttered softly in the springtime breeze, and a wry smiled was played across his lips. He device—displayed both on his chainmail and sword—was of a gold lion set upon a crimson background. Magical energy pulsated around the man, and it was clear to Maeve that not only was he a knight, he was a very powerful wizard to boot.

The clicking of horse's hooves against cobblestone sounded in the distance, gaining momentum and increasing in sound as the party approached the knight. Five knights—their device a deep blue emblazoned with a silver raven—upon white horses fell back to give precedence to their ruler. A willowy dark haired beauty rode up to the knight and halted her white gelding. She smiled broadly at the man as he reached up and grabbed hold of her waist, gently facilitating her dismount. He embraced her tightly and spun her round in his arms as they both laughed; her laughter clear as a bell, and his the deep, hearty chuckle of a man who knows true happiness. "My Lady," he looked into the Lady's eyes, "it has been far too long." She nodded in agreement and slipped her slender hand into his, and he escorted her into the castle.

The scene faded and Queen Maeve snorted with frustration. "Who were they, Athelred?" she demanded of the Servant of Glass. "Get the scene back up."

"I cannot, Madame, you know the rules of gazing far. I take leave now, my queen, au revoir," Athelred declared in his deep monotone, and he too faded.

The Queen threw a shoe at the mirror in her anger, though it bounced back into her hand. "Cursed magic!" she fumed, and turned towards a human servant. "Find me the Druid Merlin," she bellowed at the poor, frightened domestic, who scurried immediately out of the room.

"I shall have my answers!"

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_Please review!_


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